


The Personal Shopper

by quiveringbunny



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 03:23:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17195579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiveringbunny/pseuds/quiveringbunny
Summary: A short AU - Felicity works part time as a personal shopper for a busy CEO. This piece was written for @bifelicitys for Olicity Secret Santa. Merry Christmas!





	The Personal Shopper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bifelicitys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bifelicitys/gifts).



****

 

**The Personal Shopper**

Felicity Smoak loved this job. Okay, technically, it wasn’t her job-job. It was her side hustle. Everybody she knew had one - an extra means of income - usually independent in nature - that she could use to make money on her off time from being a cyber-security expert at Merlyn Global in Starling City. The money was good, the work was ridiculously easy, and it was helping her to send extra cash to help her mom pay off her home in Vegas. It also helped to keep her busy and totally not thinking about how spending the holidays in a new city could make her feel a little alone. She had moved to town six months prior. 

When Felicity first learned that personal shopping was an actual job, she scoffed. The idea that people paid you to shop for them sounded extravagant and, well, lazy. At first, she only purchased and set up computer systems for Luddites, people who either didn’t understand tech or were legitimately afraid of it. But last month, the agency that placed her asked her to branch out into other shopping tasks. This was how she found herself buying Christmas gifts for a very busy, very wealthy CEO. Initially, she had set up his home office and apparently he was so impressed, he asked the agency to hire her for the purchase of a slew of Christmas gifts for his friends of loved ones. 

Felicity was surprised when she learned of the request. She had only exchanged a handful of emails and texts with Oliver Queen — that was his name — until that point. Of course, she knew she had good taste, a great intuition about what items were suitable, and perhaps most of all, the resourcefulness to find whatever was the right fit, no matter how difficult, but she certainly didn’t expect him to appreciate that that. But he did. 

Since she had become his personal shopper, things with the businessman and Felicity had subtly shifted and there was more of a dialogue taking place between them. The emails were more frequent. There had been…texting. When he liked one of her suggestions, he always responded with text or an enthusiastic emoji. A target with an arrow sticking out of it meant she had nailed it. A goat meant the idea was exceptional. Once he had sent her a heart eyes emoji and then spent three texts explaining that his thumb had slipped and apologizing. That made her chortle for a full five minutes. The idea that a CEO would send her a text with heart eyes in it was hilarious. She had Googled him and knew that he was both handsome and notoriously single. It was best not to get infatuated with that sort of man. Still, Felicity looked forward to their exchanges. Realizing that her holiday duties would be wrapping up soon, she could not help feeling a bit sad. 

On this particular Saturday morning, just days away from Christmas, Felicity entered the security code to a penthouse in what she considered the “fancy-schmancy” district of Starling. A green light on the panel signaled success. She turned the handle on a large wooden door and it swung open easily. On the other side, the clean lines, leather upholstery and muted tones of the apartment that screamed “luxurious bachelor pad.” There were a few paintings and a couple of furry pillows on a sofa, but no hint of personal decorations upon first glance. Normally this didn’t bother Felicity, but on this day it struck her that there was no hint of a holiday going on in the place. 

_Really, Oliver? No cheer?_  There was no evidence around the place, despite its beautiful furnishings, that he was celebrating Christmas. It was all grey and natural, but lacked color and, well, personality. Why didn’t he have a wreath on the front door or one of those Charlie Brown trees on a side table? It made Felicity shake her head.  

The IT specialist/cyber security expert was dressed down today in yoga pants and an oversized green sweater, well aware she wouldn’t see anyone and, more importantly, no one would see her. She removed the messenger bag slung over her shoulder and slipped out of her fluffy winter coat, setting them both on stools by the breakfast bar of the kitchen island. Her boots came off next, leaving her feet covered in a pair of festive Hanukkah socks. Her grandma always kept her flush in themed hosiery. It was their thing. 

Felicity had visited this apartment so many times, she had developed rituals. After leaving her footwear resting by the door, she headed to the wall of windows on the far end of the open living space. They showcased Starling City.. She stood near the glass and hugged herself against a slight draught. The brief chill was worth it for the view. It was a cold, but clear day and she could see for miles, even beyond the city.

When her reverie was done, she went to the stove and filled the stainless steel kettle that always rested on the gas burner. Early instructions on working in the empty apartment had encouraged her to make use of the kitchen, as needed. She did so gratefully. After sourcing a tea bag and a mug from the cabinets, she walked to the dining table and approached the laptop and a note that was left for her. The purchases were all made on Oliver’s laptop, which had his banking attached. It was easier that way and Felicity enjoyed working in the space, far from her small apartment and her tiny office at Merlyn Global. She also found it funny that she was tasked to work on a computer she had initially set up for the man.

Felicity had yet to cross paths with the man himself. It seemed that Oliver Queen was always out of town, or at a work event, or some gala. It had become a source of comedy, actually, how they passed without meeting. Consequently, there was always a typed note with instructions, presumably produced and placed on his dining table by his executive assistant. She had nicknamed the note-fairy “Godfrey” (although she was well aware the woman’s name was Louise) and wondered what it was like to be the sort of assistant who had to go to their boss’s apartment to deliver notes. She read an article that said CEOs sometimes had assistants do their packing.  Godfrey have to pack for the man? Check the wine stash to see if any bottles were missing? (For the record, Felicity had examined the wine cabinet and even Googled a few of the labels out of curiosity, but she would never help herself to something. That was simply not right.)

Something else was not right today. The note. It was handwritten. A confident print with occasional script flourishes mixed in. Still, a man’s hand. 

_Dear Felicity,_

_First, thank you so much for everything you have done over the last months. I have appreciated your expertise more than I can say. You have done such a wonderful job sourcing gifts. It felt at times like you read my mind._

Felicity couldn’t help but smile. She felt appreciated. It had hardly felt like work to find gifts for Oliver Queen’s close friends and family members, but she liked the acknowledgment. That was something she didn’t get at her regular job.  

_I know that my mother is going to love the arrangement you made for the exhibit at the Starling Museum. Her friends at the garden club will be absolutely livid with jealousy and that will be like a second gift to her._

She nodded. The museum sponsorship had Moira Queen written all over it. Felicity got the idea when she saw a picture of the woman standing in front of a painting in an old issue of Architectural Digest. Did they really have an actual Monet in their actual house? She would have to ask sometime. Yeah, sure. 

_Dad will really enjoy the new turntable and the box set of Rolling Stones records (and they will make Mom crazy). We might need to think about head phones._

She giggled. It had not been her intention to create friction at the Queen Mansion, but when her research revealed that the retired business leader had been in a Stones cover band in college, it just felt right. Now she imagined Robert Queen strutting around his library like Mick Jagger and it made her extremely happy. The man deserved a little rock and roll in his life. 

_That amazing bottle of scotch is probably more than my best friend deserves, but it is Christmas. I’m not sure how you found it, but you are quite remarkable. He is going to owe me big time._

The bottle of Macallan for Tommy Merlyn required a bit of horse trading with a liquor dealer in Coast City and thirty minutes of free advice on the topic of secure point of sale systems. It was worth it and she was victorious. Now, she found it rather funny that she had helped arrange a gift for her boss’s son.  

_The Lieber bag you picked out for Thea is perfect for her collection. Thank you for figuring out which one she wanted._

She wondered if Oliver knew that his baby sister, Thea Queen, was an a-plus operator. As soon as Felicity started digging around to figure out a good gift for the young fashion student, Thea herself reached out and gave her several excellent suggestions and sources for the perfect treat. 

_All of the other gifts — the Disney package for the Diggles, the wallet for Walter Steele and the treats for the Board, were, again perfect. I am sure that my assistant is going to be very pleased with the cashmere wrap (and a hefty bonus)._

Felicity knew that wrap was very, very nice. She just couldn’t imagine Godfrey wearing it. Well, she honestly couldn’t imagine Godfrey, period. And she liked it that way. Some mysteries were best left alone - as long as they weren’t technological. 

_One the subject of bonuses, please see the envelope (just between us) and accept it with my sincere thanks. You are obviously a clever, observant and nice person. I have enjoyed our messaging back and forth very much during this stressful end of year. You have made me laugh and, well…thank you. O_

Felicity blushed a little from the complements and then noticed the aforementioned envelope. She looked inside and her eyes bugged out when she saw the amount. It was too generous. 

She pushed away from the table and stood up, feeling the need to pace. She never expected any kind of gesture like this from a client and she didn’t know how to respond. Should she refuse it and risk offending him? Her brain was clouding up with ethical concerns. Finally, she grabbed her phone and found the familiar contact in her messaging program. 

FS: You are too generous.

A few moments passed. Then she saw dots pulsing on the screen. 

OQ: Not at all. You deserve it. You saved Christmas for me with my family. That means a lot. 

FS: I do appreciate it. Thank you. 

OQ: Are you headed out of town to visit your Mom for the holidays?

Felicity smiled. It was funny how much information had been shared in both directions while doing this job. Of course, it had been necessary to learn about Oliver in order to pick out appropriate gifts, but revealing information about herself had just happened naturally as they exchanged messages. 

FS: No. She is going to Reno with her cousin. It’s a non-stop party with those two through New Years. They wear me out. 

Oliver responded with a celebrating emoji and a smiley face. 

FS: Are you going to be traveling for business through Christmas?

OQ: No, I actually got back last night. 

An alarm bell went off in Felicity’s head at the same time the tea pot whistled. She nearly jumped out of her chair.

FS: You’re here? 

OQ: At my parents through lunch. Tonight there’s a Christmas gala for…something. I’ll be by later to get my tux. 

Felicity breathed a sigh of relief and headed to pour the water in the cup, phone still in hand.  

OQ: Just relax and have that cup of tea. 

She stopped and looked around the kitchen. 

FS: How did you know I’m making tea at your place? Did you get cameras?

OQ: Creepy. No. I could never something like that past a security expert like you. I do get a notification when the alarm is disabled. Remember? You told me to set that up months ago. 

Felicity smirked and submerged the tea bag in the bubbling cup. 

FS: Very good. But that doesn’t explain how you know I’m making a cup of tea. 

OQ: Every time I come home when you’ve been there, the only trash you leave behind is tea-related. 

FS: That’s very observant of you, Mr. Holmes. 

OQ: Thank you, Watson. 

FS: But maybe the tea drinker is Godfrey. 

A laughing emoji was the response. 

OQ: That nickname. 

FS: Not on-point?

OQ: Eerily accurate. Louise is a gem though. 

FS: She must be to go through your unmentionables.

OQ: What???

FS: I read that some CEOs have their assistants pack for them. 

OQ: That’s just wrong. I must admit, I do get a lot of help to manage my life, but I would never ask someone to do that.  

FS: Good. I didn’t think you would be that kind of boss. 

Felicity curled up on the sectional with her cup of tea. A handy throw within arm’s reach was pulled across her lap. 

OQ: There was that one time though. 

Felicity quirked an eyebrow and sent a similar emoji. 

OQ: I had a business trip to Washington, DC and it got extended from two days to five. Louise had underwear and socks delivered to me. New. From Amazon. Totally unsolicited. 

FS: So, she never touched your actual drawers then?  

OQ: No drawers…of any kind. Ever. Jesus. I do have to make eye contact with her sometimes.

Felicity giggled into her cup and took a sip. 

FS: I just realized, I am pulling you away from holiday merrymaking with your family. Decking the halls and such.

OQ: We don’t actually do that. Mother has the staff decorate. This year’s theme is silver and angst. 

A chuckle erupted from the blonde. 

FS: Don’t you miss putting up your tree?

OQ: Maybe a little. But I travel so much. I’m not around to pitch in anyway. 

Felicity felt the conversation mood slipping. Even though she knew she should end it, she didn’t it to be on a sad note. 

FS: My mother decorated a tree entirely with tacky earrings one year. That was special. 

OQ: Aren’t you Jewish? 

FS: My mother likes to decorate. Christian holidays have been appropriated. And she has A LOT of earrings. Another year we made ornaments out of aluminum foil.

OQ: That sounds very special. 

FS: We Smoaks are resourceful. 

OQ: You are a lot of things, Felicity. Very remarkable. 

FS: Thank you for remarking on it. So, you have a gala tonight. What’s it for? 

OQ: A worthwhile cause. 

FS: You don’t know, do you?

OQ: Nope. 

FS: But you’ll still show up looking pretty, right? 

Felicity pressed send before she thought about it. She grimaced. That was a much too flippant thing to say to Oliver Queen, her client. She really needed to work on her babbling via text. After a moment or two, there was a response. 

It was a blushing emoji.  

FS: I think I should probably leave you to your day. 

OQ: No problem. I do need to go to brunch. Have a great Saturday. And thank you again. 

The end of Oliver’s text was filled with all manner of silly emojis. A snowman. Eyeballs. A scarf. A unicorn. 

_What a nice man_ , she thought. And a generous one - to friends, family, and colleagues. 

Suddenly, Felicity wanted to do something nice for Oliver Queen. Maybe it was crazy, but she would try. She just didn’t have a lot of time. 

>>—> 

It was mid-afternoon when Oliver emerged from the elevator to the penthouse floor of his building carrying a sack of leftovers from his parents’ house. The housekeeper, Raisa, never let him leave empty-handed. He probably would have come home a little later, but he was intrigued. His security system had been disengaged two hours earlier with the code he had provided to Felicity Smoak and it had not been reset. Curiosity pulled at him and he was just a little worried that she might not be okay. 

He had left the note and check early that morning, wanting to be sure she had a nice holiday and knew how much she was appreciated, but as the day had worn on with activities at the mansion, he had really only been thinking of her and their texts. 

As soon as he crossed the threshold, Oliver was struck by the smell of cinnamon and pine. Over near the window, he caught sight of her - a petite blonde with her back to him, reaching up to put a paper snowflake on a sizable Christmas tree. She was adorable from the back, her pony tail swishing back and forth.  And when she lifted her arms, the sweater she was wearing revealed a rather tantalizing yoga pant situation. He had Googled her months ago when he decided to give her access to his home, so he knew how attractive she was, on top of being an exceptionally gifted tech genius. It still burned him that Merlyn had hired her before she was on QC’s radar. But maybe things worked out the way they were supposed to. 

Rather than startle her, he just stood and marveled at the room. There were boughs of holly and sprigs of greenery placed carefully around the room. Candles (the battery-operated ones that looked pretty authentic from a distance) flickered on tables. She had obviously worked fast. His apartment looked like an actual home today - not just an extension of his office or a hotel suite. He wanted to smile, but guarded his features, waiting for the woman to turn to face him. 

When she did, she took his breath away, just a little. Her glasses had slipped down her nose and she gasped at his sudden appearance. 

“Oliver. I mean, Mister Queen. I’m…” Felicity grimaced, suddenly realizing that this spontaneous idea might not be welcome and she had majorly overstepped. Perhaps the man didn’t want all of this holiday nonsense cluttering up his streamlined existence. 

He liked her voice. It was feminine and he wanted to hear more of it. 

“You’ve been busy,” he deadpanned. 

“I just thought,” Felicity stammered as she moved to collect the paper snowflakes she was cutting at the dining table, “you might enjoy some cheer in your home. I am so sorry I intruded. I can come back later when you aren’t home and clear it away.” She wasn’t making eye contact now. 

“Felicity,” Oliver sighed her name for the first time. It felt nice on his lips. “Felicity,” he repeated, finally causing her to stop and look at him. “You will do no such thing.” 

“No?” 

“This is the absolute best present I have gotten in a long time,” he spoke warmly and approached her at the table. 

She bit her lip and looked away, her fingers worrying at a snowflake so much that it was becoming confetti on the floor. 

“It wasn’t a big deal, I…”

“I don’t mean mean the decorations. I mean you,” he stepped closer to her and touched her elbow gently. Felicity looked up at him, breathless. He really was a looker, as her grandma would say. She swallowed hard and swore not to say anything ridiculous for as long as possible. 

Oliver got lost in her blue eyes and stopped speaking, then suddenly realized what he had just said. It sounded kind of overbearing. “Not…not that you’re my present,” he actually stammered. “I mean, your friendship. Meeting you has been such an unexpected gift these last months. Do you understand?” Oliver’s voice was barely a whisper as he studied her face for a response. 

The blonde had to escape his intense gaze, so she looked down at her Hanukkah socks and flexed her toes. Oh geez, she was wearing crazy socks in front of this beautiful man. It suddenly occurred to her that he didn’t care. Felicity blinked and a smile erupted across her sweet face. “Well, technically, we haven’t met yet.” 

“Holy shit, you’re right.” The tall man threw his head back with a chuckle. Then he gathered himself as he would before a business meeting. He stepped back and bowed his head slightly. 

“Hello. My name is Oliver,” He stalled, then, to make it clear that he was not his father. “Oliver Queen. I am an over-scheduled businessman who is completely reliant on other people to do basically everything for him.” He offered his hand to her, quite formally. 

Felicity stood a little straighter and reached out to meet his hand with hers. “Hello. I’m Felicity Smoak MIT Class of Oh-Nine and I am occasionally nosey and completely inappropriate.” 

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Felicity.” 

“Oliver.” She said his name and it sounded sweet to his ears. She grinned afterwards because she liked the sound of it too. 

“Felicity, if you aren’t busy tonight, could you stay and help me decorate this tree? Have dinner?”

“Sure. But you have a thing. A gala thing tonight.” She tried not to look disappointed. 

Oliver thought about the situation for a moment and then pulled his phone out of his pocket. His expression encouraged her to wait while he attended to something. He drafted a text and hit send. Then he waited. 

“I like your socks,” he said idly. He liked everything about Felicity Smoak, actually, but it was a little early to share that. 

“Thank you,” she brightened. “A present from my grandma.”

“Have I mentioned how extraordinary you are, Felicity Smoak?”

“Not in the past ninety seconds.” 

There was then a ping on Oliver’s phone. He looked down at the screen and grinned. He sent another text back. There was a reply. And then another exchange. When it all ended, Oliver breathed a cleansing breath and looked more relaxed. 

“What is it? What just happened?” Felicity couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer. 

Oliver turned the phone to show her the conversation. Felicity moved closer and leaned in to read the screen. 

OQ: I need you to do the gala thing tonight in my place. 

TMerlyn: What’s it for?

OQ: A worthy cause.

TMerlyn: You always say that. 

OQ: it’s always true. 

TMerlyn: Why me? Or should I say, why not you? 

OQ: I am decorating my apartment tonight with my new friend.  And you owe me.

TMerlyn: Thank God, you old hermit. Is she pretty? Does she have a friend. Hey, how do I owe you? 

OQ: You will when you see your Xmas present. 

TMerlyn: It better be good, Ollie. And you better send a nice donation to the worthy cause. 

OQ: Will do. Night Tommy. 

Felicity’s heart was beating, being this close to Oliver and having witnessed his private conversation. He wanted to get to know her better. She shivered a little at the prospect. 

“I am suddenly free.” He looked down at her, nearly a head shorter than him and beamed. His eyebrow quirked with an unanswered question. 

“Well, since you are free, I guess it’s good that I am as well.”

“Yay,” he cheered, just loud enough for her to hear. 

“You know, you really need to slow down and take more time for yourself, Oliver.”

“I absolutely agree. And that starts tonight. You could show me how to make these snowflakes for the tree.” 

Oliver took her hand and led her back toward the tree. He didn’t let go and hoped she wouldn’t mind/didn’t notice. 

“Oh, I don’t know. That’s pretty advanced. Do you think you’re ready?”

“Maybe you’re right. I should work my way up to paper crafts.” Oliver looked from her to the tree and sported a playful grin. Next to him, her voice piped up. It was becoming his favorite voice. 

“Right. So, Oliver, do you have any aluminum foil?”

**The End**

**and**

**Merry Christmas!**


End file.
